


Fright by Candlelight

by smashedglassglitteringlikestars



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Bookshop Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Gen, Horror, Minor Injuries, MoFu Bingo, Prompt Fill, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Suspense, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:42:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29481648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smashedglassglitteringlikestars/pseuds/smashedglassglitteringlikestars
Summary: There's a creature lurking in the shop, and Aziraphale is armed with an unreliable candle. What will he find?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 35
Collections: MoFu Bingo 2021





	Fright by Candlelight

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for d20owlbear's (and Sev's) MoFu Bingo prompt: Abandoned to/with creature. I also wanted to honor cassieoh's adorable little Snubbins, which has turned into the ultimate Baby Crowley.  
> Enjoy the small taste of cute whump!

Aziraphale is woken by a soft slithering, as if something is leaving its place on the bed. 

“Crowley?”

No answer.

That was odd. 

With a tinge more concern, he calls for her again while he slips from the sheets, puts his slippers on, wraps his robe around himself. Still nothing. 

A shadow crosses the open doorway in a flash, and Aziraphale frowns. 

“This is no time to play hide and seek, I’d rather be sitting down to a cuppa right now.”

And with a sigh, he takes a few cautious steps forward to peek out into the hallway. Nothing. He was sensing a pattern. 

“Where oh where could my little snake be…” He was nothing but forgiving at times, and if he had to find his serpent to drag her back to bed, so be it.

His slippers make a faint shuffling noise as he pads down the carpet, nudging open various doors on the way; as he moves forward, he catches a chill and pulls his robe tighter around himself. Must be a draft, he thinks. 

“Hm.” It’s silent as he pauses at the edge of the stairs, then decides to make his way down one step at a time. “Crowley, dear, you’re starting to worry me. Answer me, please?”

There’s a thump in the dark of the bookshop, akin to the slam of a book hitting the old wooden floor. 

“That better _not_ be my Wilde.”

He blinks once, twice, and is frustrated enough to miracle up a candle burning bright in its golden drip-catcher. It casts a flickering glow against his inquisitive face, eyes sparkling as he makes it to solid ground and scans across the dim shelves. This is one of the rare times he regrets keeping the blinds shut; the streetlamps outside would have helped. 

This time, there is a scuttling that reminds him of a lizard scrabbling for purchase, and he turns to peek at the banister; a large, dragon-shaped shadow grows from the bottom molding onto the eggshell wall of the stairwell, complete with fangs and tail, upright on two… Legs?

But it disappears as fast as it appears, and Aziraphale whips back around with a low rumble of irritation. 

“Crowley. Darling. I will count to ten. And if you don’t come out, you’re sleeping on the couch. _One_.”

There’s a soft whine emitted from under one of the tables in the middle of the shop. 

“ _Two_.”

The table is jostled just enough to tip part of the display over, including a bouquet of sunflowers and a collection of poetry. This time, the books do not make the typical thumping noise, and instead there’s a very real, very loud _yelp_.

“Crowley-!”

Aziraphale follows the sound of distress to illuminate the scene: a broken vase, scattered flowers, and a tiny, tiny amalgamation of something lizard-like, dragon-like, and snake-like, with tiny nubs as arms. The bottom half of Crowley’s morphed body is stuck under a Chaucer, and Aziraphale gasps, immediately lifting the book away to see an injured tail and a flattened belly. 

“You poor thing-”

“Ansel-” Crowley protests, but he scoops her up into his palm to examine the damage. He pats the pad of his finger down her spine to check for fractures, blessing along the way. 

“You poor, poor dear-”

All she does is curl up a bit, hugging into the warmth of his soft palm without putting up much more of a fight.

“Didn’s wans you to sssseee… Gos ssstuck.”

“Now now, you know I would never hold any of this against you. If anything, I could help.”

Aziraphale brings her up to his face to give her a kiss on the head, then clutches her to his chest as he carries her up, back to bed. 

“But you _very nearly_ gave me a fright.”


End file.
